


On the first day of Christmas...

by Bibliobibulus



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Not Beta Read, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibliobibulus/pseuds/Bibliobibulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some daily drabbles with vague connections to the song. Much fluff, crack, and warm fuzzies to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> NaNoWriMo is over, I have some chapters in the works for Somnivolent, but for now have some ficlets.
> 
> Can be read as stand alone or as part of Running verse but doesn't have a reading order and could be seen as mildly spoilery.
> 
> Day one posted on day 2 because AO3 was down for me.
> 
> It HAS been pointed out to me that this is not how the 12 days of Christmas work, but this is how/when I'm posting them?

"What in the world is that?" Nick asked, cringing as a strange scream came from somewhere right outside their kitchen. He rushed over to the window and craned his neck to see what could be making that racket. It was too early for there to be trouble, they were only just getting their coffee. “That sounds like someone's shaking a rubber chicken up to a megaphone!”

There wasn't anything that he could see, and he was starting to think that he would actually have to go out and make sure no one was hurt.

“Jules?” He asked, when he realized that she hadn't said anything, or moved from the doorway. 

Juliette was leaning heavily against the frame and shaking with silent laughter.“A rubber chicken?” She choked out between huffs.

“Well, what is that even supposed to be?” He pointed at the window and turned back to it, gross confusion on his face.

“A,” she broke into peals of laughter, bending over to lean on her knees with her eyes tightly shut, “a p-peacock!” 

“Well why is there a peacock in our yard?”

“I don't know, you go ask him.” She stood up, wiping tears away from the corners of her eyes.

“Don't think I won't,” Nick muttered with a small smile, getting a snort in reply, before stomping out the door. Juliette followed up to the door and poked her head out.

“You tell him, hun. No trespassing!”

“It's in our tree!” He yelled back at her.

The peacock was startled by his loud approach and hopped further up into the tree, yelling all the while.

“Well, it's not a partridge, but close enough. I wonder where he came from?” Juliette asked, and got out her phone to text a coworker about it.

“I don't care, I just want it to go away.”

“Hey! Would you shut that bird up?” Yelled one of their neighbors.

"Say cheese!” Juliette snapped a picture of Nick waving his arms angrily at the bird in the tree, while wearing red flannel pajama pants, a grey t-shirt, and loafers, while sporting some very lively bedhead. “Heh, Monroe's gonna love this.”


	2. Day 2

No one had paid much attention to the movie for awhile, not as late as it was. The curtains were all closed, tucking the house into cozy warmth against the cold outside. The only light was a lamp or two and the television.

Monroe picked up the remote and turned down the volume, not wanting to disturb Nick and Juliette who had fallen asleep against each other on the couch. It could have been awkward, sitting in their living room by himself now. But it wasn't, it was comforting. Their breathing was rhythmic and soothing to watch.

It was a little jarring to realize that he was friends with them, that he had friends. When had that happened? No more hermit life for him, not with movie nights, running around on cases, and dinners with Rosalee. He was a pretty busy guy these days.

Monroe smiled to himself and pulled out his phone. They might get mad at him for it, but they were just too cute. He snapped a photo of them, barely visible in the glow of the television. He sent it to Rosalee with  "Two Turtle Doves." 

Yeah, they would probably hate him. He huffed a quiet laugh and picked up his cocoa. Yup, it was a hard life these days.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crack day is cracky.

_"So, you know how we eat a lot of eggs?"_ Nick read the text from Juliette with confusion.  
  
 _"Yes?_ "  
  
 _"FYI chickens. Just for the weekend."_ What did she even mean by that? He dialed her phone, but listened to the tone until it went through to voicemail.  
  
 _"Can't talk, patient coming in minute. Chickens,"_ He read as soon as the call ended.  
   
Hank was looking at him in nosy curiosity.  
  
"Chickens," Nick said.  
  
\---  
  
He couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary when he got out of his car, the normal end of the day sounds greeted him in his driveway. Maybe she was joking about chickens.  
  
"Juliette? I'm home, what did you mean chickens?" He called out when he came in the house. Her car was outside but she wasn't on the first floor. He was about to go upstairs when he heard something through the kitchen. She wasn't there, but he could see her out in the back yard. He went out back and stopped in his tracks. Yup, those were chickens. Three, weird, shiny black chickens with poofs of feathers on their head and angry little faces were just in their backyard. There was some kind of dog crate or something open off to the side, but the chickens weren't in anything, just walking around and kicking their grass. Juliette was sitting with one in her lap, petting it like a dog.  
  
  
"Why are there chickens?" He asked when he finally processed what he was seeing.  
  
"Oh, hey hun. Yeah, these little girls were dropped off at the shelter and we didn't have a good place for them, so I brought them home. It's just for the weekend though, there's a friend of Carol who's been looking for some egg layers but they can't pick them up yet.  
  
"Why chickens? And why are you petting it?"  
  
"Because they make great city pets as long as you have some yard? And these were probably someone's pets; they're so tame. This one won't let me stop petting her. It's like a feathery cat." The chicken was making throaty peeping noises and repeatedly sticking its head under Juliette's hand.  
  
  
"Why do they look so weird though?" Nick stepped into the yard and looked down at the two others who were still kicking the grass, like tiny angry punk dancers.  
  
"They're Crevecoer, it's a French species. They're a show chicken."  
  
"Uh, huh. Ok, not the weirdest thing you've brought home, but definitely one of the weirdest this year. Do we just let them run around until night?"  
  
"They can sleep in the crate, but it's going to get cold tonight so I was going to bring them in the house."  
  
"As long as they don't wake me up in the morning, and you clean up the poop as per usual." He said, smiling.  
  
"They're hens, not roosters. And they are refined little French ladies. You wouldn't poop all over our nice hardwood floors, would you?" She asked the chicken in her lap, leaning over to look at it in the face. It clucked loudly at her and stuck its face in her armpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had some pet chickens when I was a kid and one of them was really pushy about getting picked up and petted. It would follow you around, head-butting you until you would pick it up and carry it around. It just wanted to be a spoiled purse-dog. We never trained it, but she was house-broken, and everything. 
> 
> We also saw the egg-layers eating one of their own who had died one night.
> 
> Chickens are weird, but also one of the closest thing to a tiny pet dinosaur you can have?


	4. Day 4

Rosalee was organizing bottles behind the counter, listening to the radio playing quietly in the background. It was a long, dusty job, but someone had to do it. These jars hadn't been properly cleaned or inventoried side before she inherited the store.

There hadn't been many customers that afternoon, so when the bell rang it got her attention. Four youth, twitchy, and looking defensive stepped into the shop and split up. One of them came up to the counter, smiling friendly and not fooling anyone. 

"Hello, I was wondering if you carried bath salts? I thought that I'd heard this store sold items like that." The boy, no older than a teenager surely, leaned into the counter and looked at the jars she was organizing.

"No, you heard wrong. And if your buddy over there doesn't put back the rosehips that he just stuffed in his coat, then we're going to have trouble. Rosehips, really? That's one of the cheapest herbs in here," she said, leaning towards the boy and letting her eyes burn.

The boy jerked back, but then shook his shoulders and stood up straight, smiling wider. "We wouldn't want to cause you any trouble, miss, just window shopping. If you don't have any salts then I'm very sorry for troubling you." 

She took a deep breath, scenting what he was. Merula, of course they were Merula.

She said, "four colly birds walk into a shop," then leaned forward and woged, "how many walk back out?" she finished. They left quickly enough, no trouble at all. Didn't even break the rosehip jar.

She smiled slyly to herself, and stepped out from behind the counter. She reshelved the jar, and checked to make sure that they hadn't caused any damage. Her phone rang as she got behind the counter once more. 

"Hello, Monroe. How are you?"

"Hi, good, yeah. You?"

"Chased off some hoodlums, it's been an exciting day," she said, and wiped some dust off of a jar.

"Oh, is everything ok? Do you need me to come down three?"

"Oh, there's no trouble. It was just a misunderstanding, really."

"Uh huh, well if everything's ok. I was um, wondering if you'd like to come over to dinner? If you didn't have any plans already, or anything," he said, almost stammering.

"Sure, Monroe, sounds great. What time?"

"Uh, how about 7?"

"Perfect, red or white?"

"You don't have to, but if you want to, red."

"Perfect, I'll see you then." 

She hung up the phone and looked up, it seemed that it was beginning to snow outside.

An exciting day indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know, roll with it. 
> 
> They're Turdus merula, common blackbirds, also known as colly birds.


	5. Day 5

They were standing at the counter, waiting to pay for their meal. The server was busy with a large party that had just come in. Nick and Juliette didn't have anywhere to be, other than going home, so it wasn't an issue. They stood around looking at the sticker and candy quarter machines next to the counter.

Nick fished around in his back pocket, finally finding a quarter, and stuck it into a machine.

"What are you getting?" Juliette asked, smiling and trying to see past him.

"Ssh, it's a surprise," he said, blocking the machine as best as he could. "Close your eyes."

"No, you doofus."

"Come on, just close your eyes," he whined.

She huffed, but did. He popped open the egg and turned around.

"I just wanted you to know how great these last few months have been, so I got you this," he said, as he slid the gold plastic ring onto her pinky finger, the only one that it would.

"Awww, babe, it's perfect. I kind of like you too."

_______

They'd been living together for five months, still bright eyed in fresh love, but long enough to pee with the door open.

It was morning, they were sitting around eating breakfast of cold cereal. Too tired still to hold much conversation, they munched in relative silence. Juliette reached for the box, pouring another serving and reaching the dust. Nick groaned, frowning dramatically at her getting the end of the box. 

"Here," she said, as she dug around the bag. There were perks to still occasionally eating children's cereal. She pulled out the wrapped prize and handed it over. "I made this for you."

He snorted, and unwrapped it. "Aww, you shouldn't have," he said, as he put on the plastic ring by one knuckle.

"Well, I figured that we've gotten to that stage, and I'd like to keep you around, so this is bribe jewelry."

"Shut up; I love you." He leaned over and they shared a fruity flavored kiss.  
_________

  
_"Hey, happy anniversary."_ She read as she opened the text from Nick, there was an attachment. She opened it, only to almost drop her phone. There was a picture of a chunky gold ring on a bloated, bruised, and severed finger. He had to be breaking so many police protocols when he pulled stunts like this.

" _Not my style, try again later."_ She wrote back when she had gotten over the grossness. " _Please tell me you didn't pick that up."_

_"Nah, Wu had to. So, no jewelry for presents?"_

_"Not if that's how it's going to be you cheapskate."_

She was totally going to bring home something gross in a jar for him now; it was their anniversary.  
________

The first gold ring that they held did not have a happy ending.  
________

"Hey, so, I've been thinking," Juliette said as her and Nick sat down on the couch with a wine glass each. He squinted at her with distrust, setting his wineglass down and sitting up again.

"Was dinner a ply? Is this a setup?"

"Yes? Well, things have been good these last couple of months. We've opened up a lot of communication that was an issue before. You've saved my life, I've saved yours. We've got this healthy couple thing going strong," she said, setting her glass down and taking his hand in her own.

"Jules, what-"

"Shhh, big speech here. And, as seeing that the last time you were the brave one, I thought," she got down on one knee in front of the couch, " that it was my turn," she finished, and pulled out a little black velvet box.

"I hate you so much," he said, smiling widely and rubbing her thumb with his own.

"So, Detective Nicholas Burkhardt, will you do me the honors." She opened the box and showed him the simple gold band. "I almost got a chunky one but it would be too much like that severed finger ring."

"Yes, you crazy woman. Jeeze, I was giving you space. I still have the ring." He put the ring on, batting her hand away from putting it on him.

"I know you do, I clean your socks hun. If you want to keep a secret, remember that you're not ten."

"I love you,"

"I love you too. Can we kiss? The ground is hard."

 

 


	6. Day 6

Juliette's phone was vibrating loudly against her desk top. She should really put it away during work, but so many clients had her personal number, as did the police force, she would hate to miss one of their calls. And she couldn't text then. 

She unlocked the phone and answered the call from Hank. 

"Hello, Hank, is everything ok?" She asked, when she heard shouting and loud honking noises. 

"Hey, Juliette, hi. Long story, how do you calm down geese?"

"What?"

"Geese, they're pissed off and have me and Nick on a picnic table at a park."

She couldn't help it, he sounded so panicked, and the geese so angry, she snorted a laugh but caught it into a cough.

"Just, can you tell us, what do we do to get them to leave?"

"Well, I hate to tell you, you're probably too close to their nests and they won't just wander off. Can't you guys just run away? A couple of angry geese aren't going to break anything."

"We've got to question some witnesses aground the grounds; we can't just leave," he cut himself off with muttering away from the receiver, probably at the geese.

"Can you leave that area and come back after they've calmed down? Which yelling and, you're kicking at then aren't you?" She said flatly, leaned into her palm and checked her watch.

"If they weren't trying to peck my butt, then I might be nicer."

"It's true, one of them goosed him, is that where that comes from?" Nick interjected, clearly yelling towards the receiver.

"Hi, hun. I don't know. Why aren't you calling me?"

"Well, for one: you're not on speaker, so please don't call me hun again, and two: somebody dropped their phone into goose infested territory when they got scared."

"I did!" Nick chirped happily, too loud and closer now.

"Oh my god, you two are children. Ok, a: everyone has to have a few goose bites in their life, and b: no there's not a dance or trick you can do to instantly calm then down. Calm down, let them calm down, run in and get your phone, run away, and try to stay away from the geese for the next month or so. Ok, and I'm really sorry, but I've got a 17 year old yorkie to make sure is still kicking and Mr. Gliksel will be very angry if I'm late for our appointment. So, good luck, and don't hit any geese, they're just protecting their eggs." She hung up before they could say anything or ask anything else. They'd figure it out.

She decided after that, that it was probably for the best to put her phone away in her purse for the afternoon. If it was important they would call her office number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This day's idea comes courtesy of my mom, who is the only other person I know irl who watches the show. She has been getting a kick out of coming up with ideas on how to torture these characters.   
> While most aren't prudent for a holiday fluff fest, I might actually use some later in plot.


	7. Day 7/8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late posting; I haven't been feeling good and pretty much fell asleep right after work yesterday.
> 
> So, gonna cheat a bit here. Two days in one. 
> 
> Warning for possibly sketchy German? I went through a friend, and the internet.

Rosalee stood in the doorway, gob-smacked at the scene before her. She knew that Monroe could get engrossed in hobbies and collectibles, but this was- this was something.

"Uh, yeah, it's a bit of a mess right now. I did say that tomorrow might be better, but if you want you can help me put things up?" Monroe asked, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking around.

"No, no, it's ok. I just, didn't know that you were putting up so much," she smiled incredulously and finally stepped into the jam-packed room. There were boxes strewn everywhere and overflowing with various brightly colored ornaments, lights, wreaths, and that looked like it might be a small city in one of them.

"Yep, it's kind of a family tradition. We take our Weihnacten very seriously. I'm almost finished with the lights and garlands, then we can put up the train set and Christmas village. Just wait until you see it, pre-war works of art. And my great-great-uncle carved some of the houses," he said, as he moved across the room to pick up a garland that was half tacked up.

Rosalee smiled at his enthusiasm, and hung up her jacket. They didn't say much as they put up the greenery and lights around the trim of the first floor. There were carols and orchestral holiday music playing quietly in the background, and they just listened, exchanging warm smiles as they finished framing everything in a warm bath of light. 

They stood in the middle of the boxes, hands on hips and taking in the change of atmosphere.

"Oh," Monroe said, smacking his forehead, "I am such a bad host. Would you like some eggnog? I make it myself," he pointed at the kitchen with his thumb and just looked so hopeful that she couldn't say no.

"Sure, I'd love some," she said, and they started to the kitchen, "but isn't eggnog not very vegan friendly?"

"Heh, it is when I make it," he replied, giving a conspiratory grin behind his shoulder.

She was getting used to eating new, and frankly ingenious recipes from Monroe, so she only gave the alternative recipe a passing concern before brushing it away. He hadn't served her anything that was less than delicious, so far. 

And it was delicious. 

"Wow, can I actually have this recipe? Or is it a super secret family tradition?"

"Heh, no, I don't think anyone else in my family eats vegan. Though some may have eaten vegan? If you know what I mean," Monroe cringed at the joke, and moved quickly back into the living room. "So, this is really my pride and joy of the season," he said, pulling open the box with the small town inside and another that seemed to be full of train parts.

Rosalee came over beside him and looked into the boxes, careful with her drink next to such precious items.

"Is that a pond?" She asked and pointed at what definitely was a small pond peeking out from wrapping tissue.

"Oh, yeah, check this out," he said, set his glass down on a side table, and gently extracted a flat, six inch pond. "See, it's got seven swans swimming in it for the song. All hand carved and painted, though a couple of these have broken off and had to be glued back on, but I'm not ever selling so it's not a problem. You can't even see where," he held up to his face, "ok yes, you can, but whatever." He set it aside onto the coffee table. "First we have to set up the train platform though, and that's the least fun part but you can't have a village train set without a platform," he huffed a laugh at the idea, and started opening another box.

Rosalee looked further into the village box, gently pushing aside tissue to see the colorful pieces. 

"Is that a barn? Wait," she started, and set her drink aside to pull out what had looked like- well it couldn't be. "Is, um," she started again, but just couldn't quite find the words to fit what she was seeing.

"What? Barn? Oh," Monroe finally responded and turned back to her. "Um, yeah, that uncle never married..." he trailed off and fidgeted with his sweater hem.

"Ok, yeah, I can see that. It's, very detailed craftsmanship," she said with a wry smile.

"Yeah, I don't usually put that one out."

"Oh come on, you have to. It's family tradition!" Rosalee said, snorting at the end.

"There are some traditions that are meant to be broken. I tried to get my cousin to take that one, but surprisingly enough no one fought over that one."

"But- yeah ok, it's awful. I'm just going to put it away now." she tucked the barn scene away, eight scantily clad "milk-maids" and all.

"So, you wanna take a break? Maybe go out to dinner? Because this is kind of lame," Monroe asked, mouth twisted to the side and hand on the back of his neck again.

"Monroe, there's nothing lame about this, and if I ever want to see this amazing train set up then we're going to have to get that platform put up."

"Yeah?" He asked, and smiled tentatively. "Yeah, cause you can't have a village train set without a platform."

The train was pretty awesome.


	8. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um, heads-up for non-explicit strip club scenes?
> 
> Also, I forgot to upload before bed? I am a bad poster...

"This is so weird," Monroe muttered into his beer. He sat in a plush, half-circle booth with Nick, Hank, and Bud. Several other guys: a couple of Bud's friends, and two police officers, the only one he recognized was Wu were sitting at the booth right next to theirs. The mix of groups was making a slightly awkward atmosphere to the bachelor party. Bud had already stammered several almost sensitive sentences in front of the Kehrseite.

No one heard his muttering, everyone more or less engrossed in the show on stage. They really were talented dancers, he certainly couldn't do any gymnastics, let alone in heels. He hoped that Nick was having a good time, it was his party after all. Monroe was enjoying himself, he just had to go easy on the drinks while everyone kept buying Nick rounds.

How long had they been here? Monroe realized with a surprised grunt that he couldn't actually remember what number this drink was. Well, so much for taking it easy, but if the heavy slouch Nick had apparently adopted was anything to go by, then they were doing their job. 

"Juliette would have loved this," Nick slurred, the first thing he'd said for awhile.

"Juliette's at another club remember? Just with dudes," Wu told him, too loud and probably heard by at least four other booths over the music.

"Yeah, I just love her so much!" Nick said from the crook of his arm, having slumped down onto the table.

"Ok, I think we've done our job. Now we've go to get him home." Hank said, thumping Nick on the shoulder and waving down a waitress.


	9. Day 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that this becomes a regular thing, Juliette hanging out at the shop on days off and learning about Wesen medicine. So many shenanigans.

"Wow," Juliette said, elongating the word into several syllables.

"This is, pretty much gold," Rosalee added.

They both were in the side room of the Spice Shop, sitting on the couches while on Rosalee's laptop. There had been a video added to Youtube that day, and it was one that was going to be saved for the rest of Juliette's life.

"It can't be used as blackmail if it's been exposed to the world, can it?" Juliette asked.

"I don't think so, but then again, people will forget about it in a year or so. You could always threaten to bring it out to show people, or link them."

"Hmmm," Juliette watched as Nick and nine other officers, including Hank and the Captain, danced in various hilarious, and inaccurate outfits to a particular viral song involving a forest animal. "That's a cat. Where did they get these outfits again?" 

"I don't know, but I'll be glad when this song goes away. Luckily, only a couple of idiots have asked me," Rosalee said lowly, glaring at the screen.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot," Juliette said. She grinned slyly and looked at Rosalee out of the corner of her eye. "So,"

"Don't," Rosalee cut her off.

"Well, when would I get another opportunity? Rosalee."

"I hate you."

"What does the fox say?" Juliette sang, and burst into laughter that ended in fits of giggling as Rosalee shoved her off the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a coworker who really loves the song, and actually listened to it on repeat for at least four hours at work one morning because it makes him happy and he was feeling murderous.
> 
> Thankfully he has ear buds.


	10. Day 11

"So, who thought that was a good idea?" Nick asked, only whispering slightly too loud to Juliette next to him.

"It probably would have been better if there were a few less bagpipes," Juliette replied, and discretely stuck a finger on her ear to clear it. 

"Eleven is twice as too much. How are we supposed to hear Monroe's band?" Another patron shushed him from somewhere behind their seats.

"It's not a band, it's a group," Juliette said, whispering quieter in deference to the others.

"They get together and play instruments, it's a band." Someone shushed again, sharper this time. "Nobody's even playing, they're switching bands," Nick stage whispered for everyone around them to hear. 

Juliette pulled out her phone and typed something up. Nick's vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, sending bemused eyebrows at her. She did not look his way, but stared at the stage as though engrossed in the set change. 

'This way we won't be noisy,' the text said.

'What, are we teenagers?' He sent back, taking her lead and doing so in his lap with his head facing the stage.

'I know what you are but what am I?' He snorted a laugh, failing to turn it entirely into a cough. Someone shushed him again. 'Shhhh,' the next text said. He grinned and stuck his phone back in his pocket as the next group came on the stage.

Monroe and four others took seats on the small gymnasium stage, all with string instruments that Nick was fairly sure he could identify. 

They were really good he thought-he guessed. It was a little hard to tell, with the tinnitus forming, but he was sure that Monroe would play for them later if they asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like bagpipes, but just imagine eleven of them playing carols in a school gymnasium...


	11. Day 12

"See, this is nice. I can feel the holiday spirit just sinking right in," Juliette said, as she stood at the window of the Spice Shop.

"I think that might be the eggnog," Rosalee said, holding her own glass. 

They watched as the boys went over to some folks across the street. Rosalee and Monroe, Nick and Juliette, and Hank were having their own Christmas party in the shop, tree included, while a sign on the door declared the place closed.

It had been a long year, one filled with declarations and revelations, and a little bit of havoc. They were celebrating getting through it all and coming together to each other and as a whole. They were alive, happy, and a little bit warmed from spiked eggnog.

Across the street the boys were speaking to some street performers playing on buckets. Monroe turned back to the shop and beckoned widely. 

"Ehhh, it's cold out," Juliette said, reaching into whining inflection, and wrapping her sweater closer.

"Oh, come on, it's not even wet out," Rosalee set her glass down and reached for her scarf.

"No one's wearing jackets. We're all going to get sick," Juliette muttered, but followed Rosalee out of the shop. 

They walked up to the others as the makeshift band started playing silent night. It was very good, and they had nice singing voices too. It was surprising but pleasantly so. Nick wrapped his arms around Juliette's front and swayed with her in his arms. Monroe met Rosalee's eye and opened up his arm for her to slide under. Hank was smiling at a woman who had come over to hear the music. 

"Twelve drummers drumming," he said to her, smiling wide and taking a step closer when she chuckled. 

The night sky was clear, showing what stars made it through all of the lights of the city and the holidays. The air was crisp and carried puffs of breath. Soft music lulled them into a contented haze, add they stood there listening until the cold became too much and they all, plus one, hurried back to the warmth of the shop.

Melissa was far less freaked out by the herbs and such than the administering equipment that Rosalee had left out on the counter. But she still stayed until Hank made apologies and left to take her for a "walk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this. Thank you so much for everyone's wonderful comments and kudos! I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope that you had a good time reading it.   
> It's nice to write fluff after destroying your characters' lives for a month. I think that I'll try it more often.


End file.
